


Loneliness

by reynabeth



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst?, Echobeth, F/F, Femslash, PJO, PJO Femslash, crack ship, idek what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6291433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynabeth/pseuds/reynabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody knows loneliness like Annabeth Chase - nobody except Echo. They need to forget - and it's not much, but it's enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I live for PJO femslash. Especially crack ships. Requested by @pipermclean on Instagram - the Echobeth fandom may be small, but it is loyal.  
> Anything you recognise belongs to Rick Riordan. Any errors are my own fault.

Annabeth Chase is often lonely. Even within big groups of friends, even with her so-called boyfriend, even with her parents, sometimes she feels like something's missing, like a part of her just isn't there.

Being with Percy just doesn't do it. Fooling around with Piper still doesn't do it. Her mom doesn't help. Her dad doesn't know what's wrong. 

Who better for Annabeth to be with than someone who knows loneliness better than anyone else?

After the end of the war, going over the events in her head - in her waking hours and in her dreams - Annabeth can't help but think about when Leo and Hazel went to find Narcissus.

More specifically, the spirit who helped them. Echo. Something about the girl - if you could call her that - resounds with Annabeth. Perhaps it’s the idea of that constant loneliness, of wanting someone even when you can't have them, and then not being sure you even want them anymore.

Often, she finds herself thinking of Echo more and more. The thoughts are fascinating her, drawing her in, consuming her, like water closing over her head. She’s in too deep, and now she’s drowning.

The only way to break the water’s surface seems to be to find this spirit, to prove that it's nothing more than a few casual interested thoughts.

-

All too soon, she's standing by the lake. Not far from her, she hears the screams of a gaggle of nymphs, fawning over the vain Narcissus. Echo must be there too, Annabeth decides, and sets off in pursuit of the sound.

It's not long before she sees them, a bronze, bare-chested man - the epitome of male beauty - gazing into the smooth, untouched surface of the lake. Surrounding him are what must be his fanbase, dozens of girls - nymphs, Annabeth thinks, naiads and dryads, like the ones that reside back at camp.

Some of the girls have leaves woven into their hair; for others, the leaves are their hair. Eyes gleam, green and brown and grey and blue, smooth skin glinting in the sunlight, shades of green and grey and burnished bronze. 

They are beautiful, Annabeth acknowledges, though none as beautiful as the naked man in their midst. Still, she can't see the one she came to find.

She squints her eyes, searching the crowd, until at last she spots something - a flicker at the edge of her vision, like a candle flame wavering in the wind.

Focusing on that point, she moves forward, careful not to let the other girls see her. Slowly, a figure comes into view. Annabeth thinks she sees long waves of hair, dark and smooth, rippling like the ocean. She thinks she sees a sad face, upturned to the wind, a mouth moving in time to the cries of the nymphs. She thinks she sees a long dress, woven from grass and leaves, trailing on the floor like a bridal gown, revealing pale arms and slim shoulders.

Echo.

The spirit looks up, startled by something - and makes eye contact with Annabeth. The demigod freezes; there's something in those eyes, a lifetime and more of sorrow and anguish. 

Echo glides towards Annabeth's viewpoint. “What are you doing?” Annabeth hisses.

“What are you doing?” Echo repeats sadly.

“I'm looking for you,” mutters Annabeth.

“You.” Echo looks up, and Annabeth sees unspoken words in her eyes.

“I needed to see you - I don't know why, I just - I've been so lonely -” The words tumble freely from Annabeth's mouth, and she bites down on them hard. 

“So lonely,” Echo says, reaching out a hand to touch Annabeth's cheek, long fingers brushing warm skin.

“You know loneliness,” says Annabeth desperately. “Please, help me.”

“Help me.”

“Yes, help me to forget.” Annabeth is very still, her tone dropping to a whisper.

“Forget.” And Echo leans forwards, brushing her lips against Annabeth's. The kiss is soft, sweet; Echo feels barely there, the cool tickle of mist against skin.

Annabeth reaches out, eyes wide open, watching the girl, keeping her solid and stable and human. Her warm hand touches Echo's cold, soft hair, tangling itself in the strands.

It's not much, but it's enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know this is so crack it's ridiculous, but I'd love it if you could leave kudos or even a comment? Thanks!


End file.
